


The FitzOsbornes and the Cold War

by coltsbane



Category: The Montmaray Journals - Michelle Cooper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coltsbane/pseuds/coltsbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1953 and the Cold War is looming. Veronica and Daniel aren't faring well with anti-Communist sentiments swelling again and Sophie discovers that the rest of the FitzOsbornes may find themselves painted with the same red brush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The FitzOsbornes and the Cold War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily/gifts).



**1st August, 1953**

 

Veronica was home.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself when I first heard she was coming. With guests, I normally saw to it that the castle was cleaned and that the rooms were prepared for whoever was visiting. There weren’t even supplies to check or weather to keep an eye on. The summer had been almost perfect so far and Veronica wasn’t a guest, of course, and besides would be insulted by my attempts to pretty up any part of Montmaray for her. Still, I made sure her favourite marmalade was brought out for breakfast. I could get away with that because she would never notice.

The ill feeling in the pit of my stomach in the lead up to her arrival wasn’t normal. I was always elated to see Veronica and Daniel when they came to Montmaray. This year was a little different though, as Daniel hadn’t been able to leave England because of his responsibilities (and the government wasn’t too happy with him these days) and Veronica had been completely unheard from since March. 

Really, it was the latter that had me concerned. I was used to her disappearing for a month or two in line with her duties at the British Foreign Office, but there was warning, even if it was a letter. This time there hadn’t been. Even Daniel hadn’t been able to get anything out of the Foreign Office about Veronica’s well-being until early April, and that was only after he threatened to make her disappearance very, very public.

Gone quickly without a word meant something serious was happening and with even the Colonel not privy to the details, something very serious was happening. She arrived back in London with just as little fanfare. We have a telephone in the kitchen now, which meant we were able to receive word of her impending arrival or I suspect none of us would have known she was back until she arrived on our doorstep.

As it was now, she was sitting across from me at the kitchen table reading and eating toast (I was right - she didn’t notice the marmalade). Toby and Julia were still to rise and Simon and Rupert were in the village with the children. That led to a quiet breakfast wherein I watched Veronica intently, searching for some sign of what had happened. Apparently she noticed.

“What do you expect to find with your staring?” Veronica asked, looking up from her book.

She caught me off-guard and I found myself fumbling for an explanation. “Some indication of whether you’re alright or not?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem it.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“My intuition.” I had her there. My intuition when it came to things of this sort didn’t often sway me in the wrong direction. “I can’t pinpoint exactly what, but something isn’t right and I don’t think it’s Daniel not being here.”

Veronica waved a hand dismissively. “There isn’t much of a place for communists in Churchill’s shining new Britain. Much like his last term of service, it will pass.”

“You’re not the least bit bothered that they threatened not to let him back in if he came to Montmaray?”

“He’s a British citizen. They might have tried to make his life miserable over the past year, but even they couldn’t get away with that. Too many people respect Daniel for something so blatant to go by unnoticed.”

“If not Daniel, then what?”

Veronica looked at me, lips tightened into a thin line, before she went back to her book. “That question presumes your intuition was right.”

“Then tell me it’s not. Tell me I’m wrong and that everything is truly fine.”

“I can’t talk about my work, Sophie.” She at least had the courtesy not to lie to me. 

“You can talk around your work,” I said. “You and the Colonel speak in abstract about what you do all the time.”

“You get more than abstract from the Colonel at times,” Veronica pointed out.

She was trying to change the subject to my involvement in the latest of the Colonel’s escapades, but I was having none of it. “And today I’m getting nothing from you even though something is wrong and there’s no one here except for the two of us and I’m worried about you, Veronica. I’ve trained myself very well not to worry every time you go away for work, but you were gone for quite a long time and no one heard anything from you, even Daniel, and now you’re acting as if nothing at all happened but it did.”

Veronica closed her book and rested her hands on top of the red cover. “I’ve trained myself very well to do my job, even when I might not entirely approve of the policy behind it, only now it seems that means very little to the new administration because of my political views. I was instrumental in the preparation for something very high profile only I couldn’t be trusted to follow through to the end as far as the new administration is concerned because of my political views. While I work out how to deal with this in a way that doesn’t involve overthrowing the government, or at the very least the British Foreign Office, I would rather pretend that nothing happened. It makes it infinitely easier to not lose my temper.”

“They don’t trust you? But after all you’ve done-”

“None of which means a thing to them.”

“What about the Colonel? Surely-”

“He’s under suspicion by association.”

“But he’s the Colonel!” None of this made sense.

“Yes, well.” She dabbed at her mouth with her serviette to wipe away the crumbs. “It turns out the Soviets are terrible at being communists and are making the rest of us look bad.”

“They’re not even really communists.” I know I didn’t need to tell Veronica that, but I was otherwise at a loss. The Foreign Office had sent Veronica off on something serious enough that she couldn’t tell anyone she was going and had just as abruptly decided she couldn’t be trusted and had to come home.

“But they call themselves communists and that’s what matters.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, not even really looking at each other. “What are you going to do?”

“Finish my book.” She stood and took her plate to the kitchen sink.

“You know what I meant.”

Veronica returned for the book. “Honestly, at this point, it’s all I’m really sure of. Call me when the mail comes in?”

I nodded and watched her go. My own breakfast now seemed unappealing. I didn’t even really know what any of this meant, not only for Veronica, but for all of us. I took my own plate to the sink and set out the kitchen door, intent on tracking down Simon. This warranted speaking to someone with a better idea of the bigger picture and how it might affect us, even if it would incur Veronica’s wrath. This seemed much bigger than that, much bigger than all of us really, and if the last decade had taught me anything, it was that it was that the FitzOsbornes could weather anything with a plan and a bit of luck.


End file.
